


Reignite

by violetandneon



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Eventual Romance, I just read the edge of destiny novel and also heard their banter in dragonfall, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Stubborn Idiots, Unresolved Romantic Tension, alcohol mention, as of yet, spoilers for LW S3 but nothing super recent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetandneon/pseuds/violetandneon
Summary: Something has changed in Logan. After his recovery and dealing with the civil unrest in Lake Doric, Logan decides it's time for a change. Before he officially reports in, though, he owes an old friend a visit. Said old friend is all too happy to congratulate and drink with him, but old feelings resurface. Rytlock has a realization.
Relationships: Rytlock Brimstone/Logan Thackeray
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Reignite

**Author's Note:**

> So hello, I noticed there isn't a ton of GW2 fics and I'm here to write what I want to be written because I'm super into this game rn. ANYWAY. What you need to know from the book for the story is stuff you can kinda learn on Logan or Rytlock's wiki pages, not to mention that I kinda flash back to it here.

There was something so sterile about living in the Seraph headquarters. Logan sometimes missed the rush and bustle of Lion's Arch. And, of course, the good times that came along with it.

Yet he had ruined that life. Maybe it was for the pride of his people, his queen, or just maybe his own ego, but Logan knew, though he had saved the lives of hundreds, thousands in Ebonhawke, it had cost him his friends, the family he had just started to make in Destiny's Edge.

Then came the commander, bringing them back together, fighting them at every turn, trying again and again to heal their old wounds. They said the right things, held them back into place.

Logan had missed them all a great deal. The commander led, and they followed. Like Eir had tried to do, years ago. And then they had lost Rytlock for a time, chasing that damned sword into the Mists. Then Eir. Zojja wouldn't wake, and Trahearne had to be destroyed before his corruption was complete. Logan had braced himself for the worst. He had hardened his already stony heart.

He had been freed from the dragon corruption, and something had changed in him.

"My queen," he kneeled before Jennah, "I mean no disrespect, and my loyalty to you and to the throne has not changed. however, I must ask you to release me of your sacred duty, to be unbound."

Her face was carefully expressionless. It was only them. (And Anise, he thought. The two of them were… tremendously close. Once upon a time, he may have felt the pain of jealousy.)

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I understand. I know you have been feeling… differently as of late?" Her voice was softer than usual, and she shifted in her seat. 

He kept his eyes respectfully at her feet, "I find that… something has shifted, Majesty. I feel my talents are best suited for the position of Pact Marshall. The Vigil’s General Almorra has graciously offered me the opportunity, and-,"

"Logan. It's only us. Please speak your mind."

He looked at her, then. There was no fluttering, no idolization. She didn't glow or shimmer, and the familiar hum of her magic did not comfort him.

"I love you, my Queen," He began slowly, unsure how to phrase it. His voice dropped to a whisper, "But not as I once did."

She searched his eyes, then, and he could tell her magic was on the tips of her fingers. 

"Would you stay, if I asked?" She said.

Logan shook his head, "I don't think that would be wise."

"Then our contract is over, Logan," she stood, then, her face growing firm, as if slipping on her Royal mask could hide her own feelings.

"I will still come if the  _ nation  _ needs a champion."

She chuckled dryly, "But you are no longer  _ my _ champion." 

There was silence, and then, her voice came again. She sounded almost like a real person, one of the people she commanded.

"You are a dear friend."

Logan smiled, "I hope you continue to think of me fondly. And I hope I can come to know you as a friend in due time."

His experience of her had been clouded by longing, idolization, and isolation. He suspected her magic might have assisted in some ways, but he chose to believe that his Queen had good intentions. And yet, he found himself wondering if he had spent so much time here for a reason other than love. Things were different. The best thing he could do would be to leave.

She merely looked at the floor. He rose and left, without a dismissal. Even Anise, outside the door, had no sly remark, no parting words.

Kryta was a jungle of its own. He thought of his friends, and he made to the barracks to pack. He had done what his Queen had asked of him, sacrificed years, friends, and family for her. Now, she offered only an ending.

* * *

It took Rytlock Brimstone less than a minute to read the message declaring Logan the new head of the Pact. He figured that meant he'd be busy.

And yet it didn't stop him from sending a missive to the now-Marshall asking if he would come by to celebrate his promotion. After all, he had missed the idiot. It was not because he worried for him, he would insist to himself.

Things were good when they were kicking tail as the Edge of Steel, paying off their billets and drinking with pirates. Caithe would outshine them both and leave them feeling equal the way nothing else could. He remembered slipping his Blood Legion amulet around the human's neck, a show of how deeply their trust ran.

Rytlock had burned the damn favor from the Queen that Logan had given him. He could never really forgive her for taking him away from their group in their time of need. He would forever remember the desperate look in the human's eyes as Kralkatorrik loomed above them. He had never trusted the human Queen, and never completely would. Yet, he supposed, the same could be said of Bangar.

He wondered if Logan still had that amulet. Strangely, he didn't mind the idea of it still in his possession. Not after their reconciliation, and Logan saving his life at the Citadel. Not after he saw how shaken, beaten, and starved Logan had looked in the jungle.

The steel door creaked open and unfurled before Logan himself. He was out of his flashy Seraph armor and in something far more practical. It suited him. Rytlock waved his legionnaires out, getting up to greet his old friend. Logan had the same smell as ever. However, he seemed more tired these days. Rytlock noticed a gold chain under Logan's armor in his periphery.

"Get tired of the high life?"

"You wish," Logan laughed, "Did you get the announcement?"

"Yeah, congratulations, Marshall. You want a drink?" He didn't wait for an answer, just pulled out a large bottle from the shelf behind his desk. He dug a claw in the cork and pulled it out, chugging directly from the source before handing it over. Logan just smiled and took it, swigging like he hadn't spent so many years serving a Queen.

"Ah, that's the stuff. Can never find good Charr ale in Divinity's Reach."

"Didn't know you missed it. I would have sent some over," said Rytlock, his lopsided grin showing his teeth.

Logan sighed, "I've been thinking."

"Oh now, we both know that's no good for anyone," Rytlock replied, taking another gulp. The ale washed down smooth, but something flipped in his stomach.

"Something happened to me in that damn dragon thing. Came out wishing I was doing more for the world than guarding one human Queen." Logan grabbed the bottle and chugged.

Rytlock found himself growling, "Who needs human queens anyway. You're my band, even if you're not in Dragon's Watch. You have our friends." You have me, he wanted to say. Maybe more drinks first.

Logan just laughed, "I feel damn good. Free. For the first time in forever."

"Good to hear you're out. I know I feel like quitting this post every damn day."

They drank in silence a bit, just passing the bottle back and forth. Logan hummed in thought.

"What?"

"No it's just-," Logan began, "What if we co-marshalled the Pact?"

The charr cackled, "No cohesion, yeah, that's what the Pact needs."

Logan huffed, “We’re not that different and you know it. It’s a thought, at least. I would like to try leading with you sometime.”

Rytlock shook his head, “I'm with Dragon's Watch. Listen, clearly we need to adjourn to my quarters if you’re gonna be blind drunk after a few sips of charr ale.” 

The man met his eye, and suddenly Rytlock was ten years younger, making mischievous plans with the human for the gladiatorial ring. “Inviting me to your room already?”  Rytlock was suddenly grateful his fur didn’t show weakness in a blush like some humans did. Still, heat ran up to his face. He coughed to cover his surprise. Logan, outright flirting with him after all this time?  Logan just laughed it off, but his cheeks darkened. Rytlock recalled that some paler humans also blushed when they drank. 

“Shut it, human. But seriously, if you’re going to stay here for the night, I’ve got a guest space. It’s got a real bed. I can say one thing about hanging around the rest of Tyria, anything is better than those hard-as-iron charr beds,” Rytlock growled. It was only partly a lie. He didn’t mind sleeping on the ground now and again, and Logan would definitely think the charr beds were awful, especially since he was still recovering. Humans were fragile, after all. So if Rytlock were to offer his own room, Logan might not even notice.

Logan nodded, “I appreciate your hospitality, friend. It’s been kind of a long day.”

* * *

Logan and Rytlock made their way to Rytlock’s chambers, comprised of a small sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom. Logan, astute as ever, caught him almost immediately.

“I thought you said there was a guest room?”

Rytlock groaned, “Alright, investigator, ya caught me. I was just gonna loan you my room for the night. Trust me, charr beds are hell on human backs. I imported mine from Lion’s Arch.”

Logan’s face was unreadable for a moment, “I mean, it’s just a bed, we’ve shared tent space before.”

“But-,” Rytlock began.

Logan punched his arm gently, “Stop being stubborn. Just share, it’s no big deal. I won’t turn down a bed, and we’re not young anymore.”

Rytlock _hated_ to admit he was right. Plus, they were professionals. It was just a bed. Plus, humans took up such small space anyway. It would be fine.

* * *

Logan had forgotten what Rytlock's presence felt like. He had stopped hating him long ago. Rytlock was right to be angry, though he was too stubborn to admit it. But he knew, deep down, that he would forever be tied to the charr somehow.

And damn it, he still smelled the same. It was odd, how many memories that brought back. Suddenly, he was very conscious of his impulsive choice to wear Rytlock's amulet under his armor that night. 

Was it too late to go back to Lion's Arch instead? He doubted the asura guards would let him stumble through inebriated. He would puke.

As the two downed another couple bottles, Logan felt his head swim. He could feel his face burn with every drink. It was the good, gentle burn of charr ale that Logan had always associated with Rytlock.

"Hey sunshine, you need help getting that plate off? You seem like you're melting faster than an icebrood in a volcano under there."

Gods, he was right.

"I may need to… readjust. It's hotter here than in Divinity's Reach." 

"That's all the machines. Iron Legion and all."

"But, yeah, I suppose if you're offering, let me just get up," Logan said, standing up from Rytlock's overly large sitting chair and removing his belt and scabbard. It was much easier to get out with someone helping.

Rytlock's footfalls came up behind him and Logan extended his arms one after the other as the charr helped him undo the buckles. Then came the plate. After that, Logan pulled the chain mail over his head and gently laid it over the arm of the chair. 

He was aware of Rytlock watching him. It had been years since anyone had watched him like that. 

"You wanna get comfortable too? It's your place, after all," Logan said, as he continued, removing his greaves and boots, followed by his protective doublet. 

Rytlock shrugged, "Sure, why not? Gotta get me to expose my weak spots, huh?"

"You sound like Caithe," Logan laughed, before coming to his side to return the favor of helping him get out of his armor.

This was so familiar. So… domestic. It felt like home. It felt messy and comfortable, so unlike the glittering palace.

_ He was younger, stuttering, as Rytlock gave Logan a symbol of everything the charr had left behind. The amulet was the same red as the Blood Legion armor- no, Rytlock's armor. They were a pack now. He dug for something else of equal meaning to give him, only finding the token from Jennah. He had nothing else. It would have to do.  _

Logan shrugged off the memory, setting Rytlock's plate on the stand nearby.

"That's right, I heard you've learned some new tricks in the Mists. And got your sword back. Congratulations."

Rytlock grumbled, "I shouldn't have gone, but that damn sword… I sacrificed a lot for that thing. Feels like another life ago. But on the other hand, I met up with Glint. She showed me a few things. Put some voices in my head."

Logan said nothing, but put a hand on his shoulder for a moment, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me? Ha. The Mists were nothing. You had the real ordeal. Mordremoth nearly killed you like it killed Eir and Trahearne!" Rytlock's eyes blazed with anger, "I'm glad I was there to see that twisted thing die."

Logan just shook his head. "It wasn't easy, but you did all the work. I didn't even get to fight. I was useless," he admitted, "Again."

The charr growled, "Wasn't just you. I wasn't there until the end."

That brought a small smile on Logan's face, "You would have had annoyed him into killing you first."

Rytlock raised the bottle, "Damn right. And I'd've gone proudly!"

Logan stole the bottle back and took a sip as they both chuckled.

"Glad you're alive," came the charr's voice, serious as the grave. "I would have pried my way back into the Mists to kill you myself if you had died." There was a slight smile in Rytlock's voice, but Logan could hear the truth behind the statement.

"Of that, my old friend, I have no doubt," Logan said, "We'll go out together, someday. I know it."

Rytlock chuckled, "Marshall Thackeray, I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said."

Logan drank through his blush and hoped to gods his nerves settled soon. It was simple, casual banter and nothing more.

* * *

Sleeping next to Rytlock was easy, but the drink helped that. The charr had been right again, damn him. The featherbed was cozy and plush and it was truly a large mattress, at that. They might not even touch at all.

Rytlock still snored, that at least hadn't changed. But compared to the silence of the palace, Logan would gladly take it. He found himself drifting off for a time, then waking up sweating a few hours later.

It was warm, and Logan could feel the heat emanating from the other side of the bed as he tried to free himself from his undershirt and, after careful consideration, his breeches. He would still be covered enough, anyway, and could chalk it up to drunkenness if Rytlock bothered him about it. And then, on top of the sheets, he rolled over and fell right back into the best sleep he'd had in years.

* * *

Rytlock was tangled. The first thing in his thoughts was Maguuma, Mordremoth, vines, death, but soon, he realized he was awake, and safe at home.

Logan was curled up against his side. His arms curled around Rytlock's left arm, which lay between them. Rytlock's right arm caged the human, palm laying across Logan's hip. The human's breath hit his fur. Rytlock willed it not to bother him.

He knew, obviously, that from a human standpoint, Logan was what some might call "quite handsome". He had heard so many swooning fangirls and boys describe him in many ways over the years. But things were different to a charr.

Logan was strong. He was fearsome, and could face any enemy head on with impossible odds and still find a way to succeed. And here he was, vulnerable and nearly bare. That, in itself, was stupid. But Rytlock felt the trust in the action. Not only did he trust Rytlock, he trusted his People.

Just then, the telltale glint of gold and red shone from around his neck. It hung nearly to the human's sternum, and Rytlock felt a rush of pure shock and confusion at seeing it.

His amulet. The bastard had kept it. He'd worn it here and now he was lying nearly naked in the charr's bed while wearing the symbol of Rytlock's legion. 

Burn him, the sudden affection rose within him unbidden. Years ago, he had been unsure. He had fought it tooth and claw. But now? After reconciling, reuniting, and finally this? He was too old for denial.

He was in love with Logan Thackeray, and he was absolutely pissed about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanna continue this (exploring PoF story, Season 4 stuff, and the new season, yes I know about rytlock's past and stuff but uh. I mean. I'm hopeless?) but who knows where inspiration will take me so take this and run with it. I got like two other OC/Canon character stories to write on top of this but this one WANTED TO BE WRITTEN so here it is.


End file.
